Natural
by redcandle
Summary: An brief sketch of Robb Stark's relationship with Theon Greyjoy. Robb/Theon.


He liked Theon, and Theon was older and had become privy to the mysteries of manhood before he had himself, so naturally Robb followed Theon like an older brother. He thought nothing of it until his lord father summoned him to the godswood one day. Lord Eddard was sitting under the hearth tree looking pensive.

"Jory said you wanted to see me, Father."

"Aye." Lord Eddard studied him for a moment. "You're nearly a man, and a fine one, son."

Robb glowed with warmth, but he said nothing, not knowing how to respond.

"My father and my brother Brandon went south and never came back."

Robb knew the story. His uncle Brandon and his grandfather Lord Rickard had gone to King's Landing to get back his aunt Lyanna, who'd been abducted by Rhaegar Targaryen, and had instead been put to death by Mad King Aerys. But the Targaryen reign had been ended by King Robert, who was like a brother to Eddard Stark. There was no danger now. Father was even taking Bran and the girls with him. Robb wished he was going south too. What an adventure that would be.

"I should go with you," he said, hoping he could change his father's mind this time. "It'd be good for me to meet the important southron lords." He was proud of himself for thinking of an argument that didn't sound self-serving.

Ned smiled briefly, though he still looked sad. Clearly he'd seen through it. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

Robb knew that too. "Rickon'll be here."

"Rickon is but a boy of three. You are my oldest son and heir. When I die, Winterfell and the North will be yours. You must be ready."

His sixteenth name day was less than two years away and he was eager to reach manhood, but he couldn't imagine his father igone/I and himself as Lord so soon. Robb wanted to protest, wanted to speak of happier things, but he knew this talk was the reason his father had wanted to speak with him alone.

"Your mother will guide you, and Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin will counsel you, but the responsibility will be yours. You will have to lead. Remember that the lives of your bannermen and smallfolk turn on your decisions. Weigh your actions carefully, and lead well."

"I will," Robb swore.

"Aye, you will," his father said. "You're a good lad. Your mother and I have taught you right." He paused and seemed to choose his next words carefully. "I know you are fond of Theon and I am glad you have his friendship, but you must not forget who he is. He came here a hostage to ensure Balon Greyjoy did not rebel again and he will return to the Iron Isles to lead them one day." Lord Eddard paused again. "Remember that you lead and you follow no one but your king."

His mother looked at Theon with suspicion every time they returned from the village and Jon was always complaining that they never did anything without Theon. And now his father was warning him not to let Theon influence him unduly. Robb didn't understand their worries. Theon knew how to have fun and enjoy life. He was certainly no schemer. Robb liked being around him. There was nothing deeper or more complicated to it than that as far as he was concerned. But he knew what his father wanted to hear and he was a good son.

"I'll be the Warden of the North and Theon will follow me," he declared. "I know."

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He felt guilty now. It had been a grand adventure: gathering a host and marching to war, meeting the Kingslayer's army in battle and iwinning/i. But then came the news and now he felt sick to his stomach and so angry he could wring the life from Joffrey's body with his bare hands. He vowed to do just that. He'd march to King's Landing and rip that little prick Joffrey off his throne and throttle him, and he'd smash any and all hosts the Lannisters put in his path.

"He was a good man," Theon said. "The best man I ever knew."

Theon wasn't good at being serious but now he was solemn. He poured three cups of wine. He pushed one across the table to Robb, clutched one in his left fist, and slowly emptied the third onto the ground. "To Lord Eddard Stark."

Robb drained his cup in a few quick gulps. It wasn't so long ago the Starks were feasting King Robert and his family at Winterfell, and now Robert was dead, Joffrey was King, and Eddard Stark had been executed for treason. He understood now why his father had hated the Lannisters. They were vile, scheming, evil monsters.

He wished he could close his eyes and open them to find himself back at Winterfell and his father alive. He wasn't ready for this. Yes, he'd led men into battle and won, but he'd only been expecting to force the Lannisters to release his father and then his father would take over and know what to do. He settled on the bed, not bothering to remove his boots. He didn't think he could sleep. He just wanted to lie here forever.

He heard the door open. "Don't go," he said.

Theon shut the door and crossed the room to the bed. He stretched out beside Robb without saying anything. Robb turned, burying his face in Theon's shoulder, and Theon wrapped his arms around him. Robb sobbed, and for once Theon didn't laugh or make jests, he simply held him tight.

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"The King in the North!" Theon shouted, stumbling into Robb's quarters with a whore on either side of him. His hands moved down from the whores' shoulders to grope their breasts. "Bess and Nya here will make you feel like a right proper king."

The two whores giggled and stuck their bosoms out. One of them sauntered towards Robb and wrapped her arms around his neck. The dark valley between her large teats was enticing but not half so as the tight breeches that revealed as much as they concealed of Theon's tight, muscled arse. "Leave," Robb commanded the woman.

She pouted but when he continued to glare at her without relenting, she slunk from the room. Theon had the other whore's bodice unlaced and was suckling her teats. "You too," Robb said. She squealed as Theon did something or the other to her teats. Robb impatiently snatched her away by the arm and shoved her out the door.

"Why'd you do that?" Theon complained drunkenly.

"I have no time for whores," Robb said sternly. Being called a king was all well and good, but the title put him in no better position than before.

"You're an old man before your time, Robb" Theon jested. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled towards Robb. When he was only an arm's length away he stopped and got up onto his knees. "Your Grace, I pledge my loyalty to you." He gave an exaggerated lick of his lips. "Anything you'd have of me, Your Grace, is yours." He grabbed the front of Robb's breeches. "May I suck your cock, Your Grace?"

"Enough!" Robb snapped, trying to sound stern. He hoped Theon was too drunk to notice that he'd gone hard the moment he touched him. "Go fuck those wenches if it'll make you happy, Greyjoy. I have work to do. Leave me be."

Theon unlaced his breeches and his erect cock sprang free. "Not Baelor the Blessed after all, are you?" He chuckled.

"Theon, please."

Theon mistook his words. "You don't have to beg, Robb." He grasped the base of Robb's cock in one hand and took the rest of it into his mouth.

"You can't. Stop." Robb pleaded, but his arms hung limply at his side. He didn't have the strength to push Theon away.

Theon's only response was to do something with his tongue that caused Robb to moan.

"Nooooo," Robb moaned, but he was spilling his seed in his friend's mouth. He felt too shy and awkward to be offended when Theon made a face of disgust at the taste and spat his seed onto the floor.

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen next, but it certainly wasn't Theon crawling into his bed and beginning to snore like nothing had happened. Robb sighed. He sat down at the desk and resumed working on the letter he'd been writing before Theon interrupted him. It would solve his problems, and it'd make Theon happy. Robb didn't once consider that Balon Greyjoy would refuse. His plan was too perfect.


End file.
